


innocent until proven guilty

by sugdensquad



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Five Stages of Grief, M/M, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 04:21:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6838837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugdensquad/pseuds/sugdensquad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Thursday's episodes whereby Robert is accused of having Gordon killed and subsequently retreats to Keeper's Cottage to process everything. Will he decide to prove his innocence and fight for his relationship with Aaron? Or will he admit defeat and accept that they were never meant to be...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Innocent Until Proven Guilty

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to upload this series onto AO3 after all the wonderful comments I got on tumblr (they were much appreciated!)
> 
> Part 1 and 2 are complete and part 3 will be up later today :)
> 
> As always, kudos/comments are much appreciated and happy reading!

Robert’s hands were trembling as he pushed the key into the lock and stumbled inside Keeper’s Cottage, tears drying on his cheeks. 

He was wrecked. Everything that had been said, everything he’d been accused of, had left him hollowed out and shaking. They thought he did it. They really thought he could do this. _Aaron_ thought he could do something like this.

The whole house was in darkness and he slid down the wall, knees buckling as the reality of it all hit him afresh. 

_Just tell me, Robert. Tell me if this had something to do with you._

It was like he’d walked into a nightmare, his whole body numb and his brain just grinding to a halt as he stood there, dumbfounded. And they’d stared back. The Dingle family - Chas, Cain and Aaron - watching him and waiting. They’d already made up their minds. 

Guilty.

“You really think- You honestly think I’m capable of something like this?” he’d asked, the words breathy and weak. He couldn’t even process it, couldn’t make sense of what they were saying.

“It’s not like you don’t have form,” Chas had batted back, and God it stung. To have his past, his former self flung back at him despite everything he’d done to try and change. 

And maybe he would have understood it from her, or from Cain. But Aaron had looked at him like he was thinking the same thing, like he was already silently accepting Robert had done it. No questions. No moment of uncertainty. To Aaron, Robert was a killer.

“Whatever I say… it’s not going to be enough to convince you, is it?” he’d replied after the nausea had subsided a little. He was just staring at Aaron, wondering how this could be happening, wondering when it could have gotten to this point.

He hadn’t gotten an answer to that question, and so he’d left. Feet taking him out of the pub, down the street, and towards his sister’s house. And now he was sat in the dark, the tears coming thick and hot as his vision blurred completely, and he let it this time. There was no one to see, no one to judge him now. 

So he broke, like he’d wanted to for weeks. All the half-hearted smiles and ignored questions, all the shrugged-off hugs and ducked kisses, all the forgotten dates and unfocused conversations… all of it now crashed down on him, and the weight was crippling. 

He buried his head in his hands, the sobs wracking him to the core, eviscerating him from the inside. He was choking on the tears, throat ripping itself to shreds as he just cried. Because he’d been so good this time. He’d tried to do everything right, to make sure he was the best version of himself that he could be, and it hadn’t been enough. They all still saw him as the cold-hearted murderer, even Aaron. Especially Aaron. 

It was as if his future had just crumbled in his hands, the ashes of what should have been his life. Now reduced to dust, slipping through his fingers. And no matter what he did now, they wouldn’t believe him. He could probably have walked on eggshells for the rest of his life and it still wouldn’t have satisfied them that he’d changed.

Maybe it was what he deserved. Not prison, but close enough. Isolated from the people he loved, judged and accused and belittled. Maybe this was justice. Or karma.

He drew in a quivering breath, lungs aching as though he’d been drowning. He was drowning. Except there was no one here to pull him up, bring him to the surface. He was going under and no one cared. Not even him.


	2. Picking Up the Pieces

Victoria had left Adam in the pub to deal with helping a rather tipsy Moira to stand (and failing miserably in his attempts as far as she had seen). The Dingle family were still in full celebration mode, though she’d heard something had happened with Aaron and Liv which meant the party spirit had been muted somewhat. She didn’t ask Adam to explain, she knew it wasn’t her business and that he’d tell her once he knew more.

Her keys were at the bottom of her bag and she was rifling through its contents as she approached the gate when she noticed the door was slightly open. Her heart stuttered for a moment before realising that the chances were, Robert had come back to get something and had forgotten to shut it properly. Since basically moving in with Aaron, she’d barely seen him other than the few times he popped back to grab a clean shirt or his phone charger.

She smiled, reminded again that her brother was finally getting back on track, finally happy, and pushed open the door and entered the dark hallway.

And then stopped.

Someone was sobbing. In her house. Someone had come into her house… and started crying?

She dropped her bag on the floor and headed in the direct of the noise, heart thumping against her chest as she pushed open the living-room door.

“Robert?”

He was slumped against the wall, head dropped between his knees, shoulders shaking as he cried. Victoria paused for half a second, her thoughts scrambling as she took in what she was seeing, before she knelt down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched but she didn’t pull back.

“Robert, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”

He was struggling to get his breath, she could hear it catching every time as he desperately tried to stop himself crying. The vein in his neck was bulging painfully, and she could see his cheeks had turned a violent shade of red. Her fingers reached up to stroke his hair, brushing through the soft strands as she shushed him gently. She didn’t know what else to do, and she could remember her mum doing the same thing to her when she was a child. Happier days, she thought to herself.

Eventually, Robert’s breathing eased and he was able to lift his head, the backs of his hands coming up to rub away the tears. He looked broken, and Victoria felt her heart hiccup with fear. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him cry before, and it scared her to see him like this.

“You gonna tell me what’s happened?” she asked softly, gently wiping away the last few tears that clung against his freckled cheeks.

Robert’s lip trembled for a second before his jaw locked and he turned his face away. “I’m fine,” he said, and she could hear it in his voice. Defensive. Guarded. Cold.

“You can tell me,” she tried again, because there was no way they were leaving this.

He gave her a warning look, but there was no heat to it, and she knew he was already giving in, the barriers slowly falling again.

“Robert…”

“He doesn’t trust me, Vic,” he whispered, and now the tears were back, not falling this time but pooling in his eyes, threatening to consume him once more. She gripped his arm, determined to keep him steady even for a little while until she could make sense of it all.

“What do you mean?”

Robert exhaled sharply, fingers rubbing at his temple. “Gordon’s dead. They found him this morning… in his cell. And Aaron thinks I did it. He thinks I actually…”

He didn’t get any further, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard. Vic said nothing, couldn’t think of anything that would help either of them. She didn’t even know what Robert was trying to say.

“What does Aaron think you did?”

Robert dropped his gaze, shoulders hunching forwards as if to shield himself from what was coming. Victoria kept her grip tight on his wrist, holding him firm, and waited.

“He thinks I had him killed.”

***

Victoria placed the steaming cup of tea down onto the table and then maneuvered herself round so she was sitting in the armchair opposite him.

“Why would he even think that? I mean…”

“He doesn’t trust me. He never has, not really.” His voice was so even, so hollow, that Victoria immediately reached out and tangled her fingers with his own. She couldn’t remember seeing him this empty before, this devoid of anything resembling emotion. And it scared her.

“That’s not true. He knows how much you’ve been there for him-”

“But I also destroyed him, Vic. I hurt him over and over, and he can’t forget it. How could he, after everything I’ve done to him?”

“But you’re different now! You’ve been so good, Robert, and he knows that. He’s just upset, his head must be all over the place.”

She was always the voice of reason, always the one to inject some sense into the conversation when one of her brothers was going off the rails. Except it was different this time. Robert didn’t look like he was losing control. If anything, he looked like he’d given up.

“Yeah, but his first instinct was still to doubt me. Don’t you see, Vic? How can we ever be together if he doesn’t trust me?”

“Robert, don’t do this. This isn’t you. I’ve never known you to give up without a fight.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m tired of fighting. I’ve been clinging on from day one, hoping he’d let me in, hoping his family would let us be happy but… it won’t happen, will it? They’re always going to remember what I did to him, and he’s never going to fully forget it. We’re doomed. We always have been, I was just too stupid to see it.”

He hauled himself to his feet, raking a hand through his hair as he did so, and headed for the door. She caught his wrist just in time before he disappeared, and gave it a light squeeze.

“He’ll come round, Robert. He just needs time.”

He seemed to freeze a little, the muscles in his back tensing for just a fraction of a second, before he gave her the weakest of smiles and headed upstairs to his room.


	3. Turning Page

Vic had managed to find four separate reasons to come into his room that evening, and each time she’d managed to slip into the general conversation that she was _sure_ Aaron would come round, or that Aaron hadn’t meant what he said, or that Aaron still cared about him.

Robert had kept his mouth shut against the torrent of abuse he’d wanted to hurl at her for even mentioning his name, knowing it would neither have been deserved nor gone anyway to making him feel better. Instead he’d kept his eyes trained on the wall opposite, counted in his head until he heard the door shut, and then let out another shaky breath.

He wasn’t sure if what he was going through was anything akin to grief, but he’d certainly experienced all five stages in a very short space of time.

First there had been denial - he’d had that immediately after the accusation. Aaron’s words had been anesthetic to his bones, numbing every part of him so that the hurt couldn’t seep any deeper than the surface layer.

Then there was anger - that had come on the walk to Keeper’s. It was a brief, burning flash of rage, reminiscent of the man he was before, the one who lashed out at the whole world for his problems. The one who blamed anyone who wasn’t him for the mess he was in. It was a testament, really, to how far he’d come that his anger had lasted just a few short seconds, dissipating almost as soon as it had arrived.

Bargaining was next - just before Vic had walked through the door, he’d had his head in his hands, pleading with literally anyone who was listening, even his dad, that if he could just go back to the moment he burnt the letter... if he could just turn back time to that moment... That also hadn’t lasted long, because he was too cynical and too realistic to think his prayers would ever be answered.

Depression had crept up on him, cold and unmerciful, the moment he’d shut his bedroom door. The room he’d almost managed to convince himself he wouldn’t be needing anymore. He was staying with Aaron now, he would probably move in permanently at some point, or maybe they’d find a flat together. Two bedrooms, obviously, because Liv would be staying with them. He’d had it all planned out in his head, this daydream which kept him going when Aaron was too preoccupied to notice him. He’d really thought they would make it. That after everything, _everything_ they’d overcome, there could be nothing now to stand in their way.

And now, with dawn’s pearly tendrils filtering through the thin curtains, Robert was left with the final stage, the one which couldn’t be shaken.

Acceptance.

He’d lost. And he didn’t even have the comfort of knowing that it had all been done by his own hands. This time, it was as if the universe itself had intervened, to remind him that he didn’t deserve anything as good as love. That he hadn’t done enough to deserve Aaron. No, that wasn’t it. It had nothing to do with what he’d done or not done. It all came down to him - _he_ wasn’t good enough to deserve Aaron. He just wasn’t enough.

 

***

“You know, I can take today off,” Vic said again, glancing at him with those narrowed, concerned eyes which had become incredibly familiar to Robert over the passed year.

He shook his head. The last thing he wanted as her getting it in the neck from Chas that she had chosen her murdering brother over her job.

“I’m fine. I’ll just do some work from home, keep busy.”

Of course, he had no intention of doing anything even resembling work, but his sister didn’t need to know that. She’d be happier thinking he was focused on something, that he wasn’t wallowing or watching daytime tv.

“All right. Well... I suppose I should go. I’ll pop back at lunchtime, we can go to Bob’s if you like?”

She was pulling on her jacket now and searching for her keys, so he got away with giving a non-committal shrug before slipping through to the living-room. He listened for Vic’s footsteps in the hallway, the creak of the handle turning and finally the slam of the door.

 _Alone at last_ , he thought, allowing himself a moment of bitterness before grabbing Vic’s laptop from the table and opening it at the page he’d been reading the night before.

Flats for rent. In Leeds.

He couldn’t stay here. Vic had put up with him since the shooting, had accepted him as this permanent fixture in her home despite his continued assurances it was only ‘temporary’. He wouldn’t be a burden to her again. And Adam had hardly been enamoured by the idea of having Robert back under his roof.

“You know he burnt the letter, right?” Robert had heard him ask Vic while he’d been descending the stairs earlier that morning.

“Yes, I do. But you and I both know he did it because he was trying to protect Aaron. It’s not like he set out to to hurt him.”

“Yeah, but your brother has a nasty habit of screwing people over even when he’s trying do the right thing. Aaron’s in bits over this, Vic.”

Robert had gone back upstairs until he was sure Adam had left for the scrapyard. He imagined him and Aaron sat huddled together, talking over the idea of Robert paying someone to have Gordon killed, weighing up the likelihood and ultimately deciding that it was pretty much a dead cert.

The image of it made him sick with fear and he returned his attention to scrolling down the list of flats. He had the money, he could afford to rent somewhere nice. Somewhere flash. But as he clicked on all the executive apartments, browsing through every glossy picture of monochrome furniture and 'open-plan living areas', all he could think was - _this isn't what I want_.

What he actually wanted, what he'd been craving for so long now, was a place he could call 'home' nestled in the village he'd grown up in. He wanted a cottage filled with knick-knacks and clutter and memories. He wanted a kitchen that was always busy, Liv getting ready for school, Aaron wolfing down his breakfast because he was late, Robert desperately trying to do work at the table and grumbling because he never had a moment's peace. He wanted a garden he could sit out in the evening, bottle of beer in one hand, Aaron tucked beneath his arm, both of them content in each others companionable silence. Until the moment Liv blared her speakers through the open window and Aaron gave a huff and started shouting for her to turn it down. It all looked so possible in his head, even now. This blissful, domestic dream he had concocted at his lowest point and which had kept him from sinking any further when it seemed like there was no hope left.

Except now there really was no hope left. No way forward, no way back. Just stuck in this never-ending limbo.

Robert slammed the lid of Vic's laptop, deciding that he could look at flats later on. Or never. Whichever came first. His coffee had gone cold beside him and he took it through to kitchen, rinsing out the mug and putting on the kettle to boil again. Every muscle in his body ached, as if the past twenty-four hours had not just taken a mental and emotional toll, but a physical one as well. He pressed his fingers into his shoulder, attempting to push out the tension through sheer force alone. It did nothing other than create a dull ache which pulsated across his back, and he sighed, leaning against the sink and letting his eyes fall shut. He'd barely slept, and now he felt the weight of exhaustion crash into him at full speed, almost paralysing him.

And then he heard it. A tap against the door, barely audible above the shrill whistling of the kettle. Robert stood frozen, somehow knowing already who would be at the door. He flicked off the kettle and crossed through to the hallway. There was another succession of taps, and he took a final second to compose himself before he opened the door.

_Aaron._

 

***

They stood awkwardly in the centre of the living-room, Vic's coffee-table a welcome barrier between them. Robert was desperately trying not to notice the raw, red skin around Aaron's eyes, but each time his gaze skimmed over him it was like his heart was lanced open again. He should have been there. A hand to hold, a shoulder to lean on... even if Aaron would have wanted neither.

“DS Wise has just been round,” Aaron eventually said, his voice hoarse and tight. He wasn't looking at Robert, blue eyes unfocused as they darted round the room. He tried not to take it as just another reminder of how far apart they'd grown, but it was hard when the air around them felt as though it had fallen below freezing.  
  
“Right,” he replied, because he wasn't sure he was up to saying anything more than that.

Aaron caught his lower lip between his teeth, and now his gaze was focused, staring directly at Robert. There was something about his expression, so open and vulnerable, which made him want to close the gap between them. He didn't. Couldn't.  
  
“Gordon… he killed himself.”

He might have laughed if it didn't feel like yet another kick to the gut. Aaron was here because the police had finally confirmed what Robert had already said. He hadn't come because he wanted to, because he'd missed him, because he had finally decided to trust him.  
  
“Ok.”

Aaron pushed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, shoulders rising up to his ears as he gave Robert another pleading look. “I don’t know what to say.”  
  
“Nothing to say. Not now,” Robert murmured, all fight gone from him. He couldn't do this, couldn't keep pretending they were all right when their entire lives were crumbling around them.  
  
He heard Aaron sigh, breathy and trembling. “I’m sorry.”

It was what he had wanted, but now it just seemed like a hollow victory. They were still stuck, still battered and bruised. Shattered by all that had gone unsaid, all that had been felt but never spoken aloud. Left to fester and slowly corrode what they had so carefully built up between them. God, how had they got to this moment?

“Don’t be. You had every right to think what you did.” He wasn't even thinking anymore. Saying the words because he knew he had to, rather than because he felt it was in anyway true.  
  
Aaron seemed to have noticed the vacancy in Robert's voice because he took a half-step forwards. “No, Robert, I didn’t. I should have known-”  
  
“I’ve got form," he cut him off, and the pain was almost audible in his voice, an agonising sense of betrayal which sharpened every word. "That’s what your mum said, right? She wasn’t wrong, Aaron, it’s not like it would have been impossible.”  
  
“Yeah, but I should have believed you. I should have trusted you.”  
  
“But you don’t. That’s the problem," Robert countered, and now they had reached the crux of the issue, the elephant in the room that they had managed to ignore for so long. They had both been so naive to think they could plough through, completely avoiding what was staring them in the face.  
  
“I’ll get there," Aaron said, and he sounded almost hopeful. And it hurt more than if he had just walked out the door. Because he was wrong, and he didn't even seem to know it.  
  
“How? Aaron, I’ve been bending over backwards for months now, doing everything I could to make you happy, to make Liv happy, to make your mum happy! I’ve said nothing when your family shunned me, or when your mum was on my case every day, or when your sister was doing everything she could to come between us. I didn’t complain when I had to cancel Barcelona, or when every plan I tried to make with you got pushed aside or forgotten about. And I haven’t said anything because I’ve been walking on eggshells, too scared to say any of this because I knew it might be enough to lose you!”

He let out a much-needed breath, the weight on his shoulders easing just a fraction. He'd wanted to say all of that for so long, and more besides, and it felt like such a relief to finally have the words said aloud, rather than merely thought.  
  
Aaron looked stunned, bloodshot eyes wide with shock as he tried to process everything Robert had said. “I- I didn’t know.”  
  
“Of course you didn’t. Because I never told you. I’m not blaming you, I swear I’m not. I don’t expect to be your first priority, not when you have all this going on, and Liv as well. I know I’m not top of the list, and that’s fine… It’s just sometimes, it feels like I’m not on the list at all.”  
  
“You are! Of course, you are. Robert, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you felt like this.”  
  
He moved forwards, gravity tugging at him, encouraging him to close the remaining space between them. He ached for him, ached to hold him, to kiss him, to touch him. “Aaron, you don’t have to apologise. I don’t want you to feel guilty about this. I should have said something before now, I shouldn’t have let it all build up. But even if I didn’t feel like this, we’d still be left in exactly the same place. I’ve done everything I can to be there for you, to show you I’ve changed, but there’s a part of you that still doesn’t believe it.”  
  
Robert watched as Aaron pulled the sleeve of his hoodie over his hand and wiped his damp eyes. He looked so tired, so wrung out, and again the urge to pull him close took over, and again he fought against it.

“I’m trying. But every time I think we’re getting somewhere, you do something which makes me doubt you again. Paying off Ryan, burning the letter… You keep making decisions for me, because you think you know best.”

It stung. Not because Aaron thought it, but because there was a part which rung true. It wasn't about knowing what was best for him, but he had taken control twice now, and twice it had hurt the one person he had so desperately been trying to spare further pain.  
  
“I just wanted to protect you.”  
  
“But that’s not what you end up doing, Robert," Aaron exclaimed, and there was pain rather than anger in his voice. Somehow, that was so much worse. "Paying Ryan could have ruined the whole court case. Hiding that letter from me meant… Gordon got to kill himself and now I won’t ever get to look him in the eye. I won’t ever get to say what I wanted to say to him!”  
  
“I know. I really thought I was doing the right thing.”  
  
Aaron shook his head, a sliver of calm returning to his previously restless demeanour. “The right thing is to not hide stuff from me. The right is not to lie to my face. I can’t do it, Robert, I can’t keep feeling paranoid every time you tell me something, wondering if it’s the truth this time.”  
  
His chest felt like it was caving in, wondering if they had reached the point he had been dreading. The point where they called time on the remnants of what they had. “So, what do we do?”  
  
Aaron shrugged, suddenly unsure. “What do you want to do?”  
  
“Aaron, you know what I want. What I’ve always wanted. _You_.”  
  
“You’ve already got me.”

It took the breath from him. To hear it after so long of nothing was like coming up for air, and Robert savoured it for a few glorious moments before allowing reality to slam into him once more.  
  
“Not right now, I don't. There's too much else going on. The trial's only just finished and now Gordon's dead... and even when that's somehow sorted, there will still be Liv and work and our families and... It's never going to be just us. We've never had that.”  
  
Aaron seemed to consider it for a second, running his tongue along his bottom lip before coming to sit on the arm of the sofa. “All right. So that’s what you want, then? More time, just the two of us? Yeah?”  
  
He sounded so reasonable, so calm, and Robert had to stop himself from letting the relief take over. They weren't out of the woods yet. Not even close.

“Yes,” he replied, forcing himself not to smile.  
  
Aaron pulled at a stray thread that had come unravelled from the sofa, winding it round his finger as he thought. “Then we’ll do that. We’ll work it in, somehow. Mum can look after Liv, and we can go out. Dinner or something. One night a week that’s just us. No distractions.”  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
“Yeah. But this only works if you’re honest from now on. You can’t keep things from me, Robert, I mean it. I don’t care how much you think what you’re doing is right, you come to me first. All right?”

The trace of a smile was now gone from Aaron's face and Robert schooled his own features, knowing that now more than ever, he needed to be believed.  
  
“All right. I promise.”

"You mean it?"

Robert nudged the table out of the way, coming to stand in front of Aaron now, secure in the knowledge that this time, at least, he would not be rejected.

"I mean it."

They looked at each other now, caught up in the sudden realisation that they weren't finished, that their relationship, damaged and fragile was it still was, had not dissolved completely. Robert felt another wave of exhaustion hit him, this time laced with sheer, unadulterated relief, and he stretched out his fingers for Aaron to take. And he did. One blinding second of nothing, and then Aaron's hand suddenly reappeared from the black folds of his sleeve, and his warm fingers intertwined with Robert's.

"Perfect fit," he whispered, more to himself than for any other reason, but the corners of Aaron's mouth quirked upwards, just the barest glimmer of a smile, and it was one of the most rewarding and beautiful sights he had ever seen. Because it was hope, and until that moment, Robert had been fairly certain he would never feel it again.

 


End file.
